poisoned roses and tarnished silver
by The People Speak
Summary: And we loved a love that killed itself because of fame and power and other words. And I loved you like a person loves breathing-unnoticed until there's no air left and you're gasping for life- but it still wasn't enough. We had our choices and we started out golden, but now miles can't measure how far we've fallen. / scorpiusrose angst (!depression/impl. suicide attempt warning!)


**poisoned roses and tarnished silver**

* * *

I was eleven years old and so were you. I was loud and had a mane of uncontrollable curls, wide and innocent eyes, an unquenchable thirst for knowledge, and a path set in front of me. You were reserved, had neatly trimmed locks, eyes that had seen too much, a desire for silence, and a mountain to climb just to be yourself.

Our first glance was amidst smog and screams and sobs and whispers and conversations and masses of people neither of us knew. In that moment I felt the ground beneath my shoes and the heat of the heavy robes on my back and I knew you were different. You looked away first and I barely managed to steal my eyes back from you.

On the train, I could have picked you. You were alone and silent and there was so much space. Instead, I found a new, different friend in a compartment that was already full, but somehow with six people present, it still felt emptier than yours. While I adore the friends I have now, I still wish I'd chosen you.

Albus did. Al was, is, unlike the others in the Weasley-Potter clan. He was never loud-mouthed, arrogant, over-confident, or showy. I suppose that's why you two got along so well. You both had the names of titans, yet you clung to your names of men. The friendship of Albus Potter and Scorpius Malfoy was unprecedented, but unshakable.

The first moment where I realized that you were human-not some abomination like my father believed-was when you sat on the worn wooden stool and awaited your fate. Unlike the excitement on our classmates' faces, yours held dread, uncertainty, and unbridled ambition. And the hat came down and you sat and sat and sat and sat and it wouldn't sort you until it finally did. I'm not sure what I expected, but at least the green could bring out your eyes.

I understood you then-the fear and the guilt and everything. There was a legacy resting on your name and to follow it was your duty even if your heart, your body, your mind and your destiny were calling for you in different directions. I understood that once I had a voice that wasn't mine in my head telling me to be smart-the smartest-and let it choose, but I couldn't-wouldn't. So I chose the fire and the red and the companions with hearts of lions who roared in the face of fear. When really, I belonged anywhere but there.

And that first day, across the Great Hall, we met. I was Rose Weasley, the Gryffindor protégé who was already surrounded by adoring friends, and you were Scorpius Malfoy, the Slytherin boy with an unexpected mate at his side. And silver and blue locked and neither could look away because there was a connection. At eleven years old, we were too young, but now I finally understand.

* * *

Our first year played out in a way both similarly and very differently to the way I'd imagined it would. Our communication was limited, but when established, almost always through Albus, it was curt and actually polite. As days passed, I noticed that you belonged in Slytherin about as much as I belonged in Gryffindor.

Usually, I had no shortage of words, but around you I understood silence. We would sit together in the library, on opposite sides of the room, and do nothing but read. I read about life and fantasy and astronomy and you read about Quidditch and magical creatures and history and Muggles.

Even at eleven, we both had to dodge prying eyes and loud voices and people prying into our family histories. The rest of my family hid together, in an intimidating clump, but you had no one else. Sometimes I liked to imagine that I was your shelter, much as Head Girl Victoire was for the other Weasleys.

Contrary to my previous expectations, I did not fly through easily at the top of the class. Though you never said anything, a silent glance at your paper proved that your marks were as good as mine, often better. It infuriated and intrigued me. However, the challenge, though not open, pushed me to be better and as much as my father would hate to know, I began to respect you.

* * *

The summer after first year, you and Albus, now the best of friends, lurked about the Burrow and avoided the rest of the loud, chatty family. For the first time in my life, I understood where Albus came from in not wanting to socialize all the time. But I couldn't change, so I stuck with Molly and Dominique and Louis and my new friends and watched you and Albus out of the corner of my eye.

When school started up again, I saw you in the library less and learned it was because you had finally been roped into doing something with Albus. Despite both of your shy attitudes, you practiced hard for, and attended the Slytherin Quidditch tryouts. I dragged James with me to watch and I'm sure he only came to spy on his competition. Albus was good, but I already knew he was, and the snitch never escaped him.

You were the wild card, but you looked more comfortable on a broom in the air than you ever did on the ground. You flew as easily as others breathed and you were graceful enough that James couldn't keep his mouth shut. I left halfway through because there was no way that either of you wouldn't make it. Zabini would have been a fool to let you go.

True to my prediction, both you and Al made the team and you celebrated. Instead of staying up late and stuffing down sweets as most might, I stumbled across you in the corner of the library playing chess. You had already defeated Al soundly and he had forced a rematch, slightly embarrassed.

I noticed that your play style was not unlike my own and I cringed as Albus played right into Checkmate. It was then that you noticed you had an audience. You stared, questioning, as Albus invited me closer. Your grey eyes-they sparkled silver-never left me for a moment as Albus challenged you on my behalf.

I lost the first, and you lost the second and somewhere along the way Albus slipped away and it was just you and I. Our rivalry-friendship if you stretched it-was almost more unlikely then Al and yours. Yet, through Wizard's Chess, I saw a new side of you. I saw past the sharp features and the silver eyes and the white blonde hair of the Malfoy and I saw Scorpius. It felt like that first moment on the platform all over again.

* * *

In third year, a female friend of mine commented on your looks. I hadn't thought much about boys-books were more important. I had no room for argument though since she was right. I'd spent most of second year in respected quiet with you and Al, or in rambunctious noise with my other friends. There was no denying that with your hair being fantastically messy and your eyes being gloriously sharp at all times, you were very handsome. Malfoy or not, you had looks.

However, you were still a Malfoy, I was still a Weasley, and even though I respected you, I had a reputation to protect. I laughed off my friend and she just rolled her eyes at me and told me to prepare for the heartthrob you'd grow up to be. I found it hard to believe; Scorpius Malfoy-quiet, smart, good at chess-would never be a heartthrob.

Merlin, I was wrong.

* * *

Fourth year was when Malfoy fever really hit the castle. Half the girls in our year were in love with you, and I was one of the only ones you ever talked to. At fourteen, we began seeing even more of each other, since Al began dragging you to my friend group's events, seeing as he fancied my other best friend.

You were getting better: focusing less on quiet and more on making quality friends. The Slytherin Quidditch team was nearly undefeatable having only been beaten by Gryffindor twice, Ravenclaw once and never by Hufflepuff. Considering a majority of my friends were Gryffindors, you and Al took pride in that.

Seeing you come out of your shell was an experience. It meant that everything you used to do-read, play chess, study, get good grades-was suddenly done in high definition. You had people following you around, determined to know you, but it was always Al or I that you came to see. I enjoyed it. You got flustered and confused around girls still, but we were fourteen and I didn't do much better around boys.

* * *

At fifteen, we were less friends, more rivals, and more strangers. It was weird for me since I'd spent the last three years watching you emerge from your shell. I got a little swept into the category of 'girls who like Scorpius' and you fell more into the heartthrob category, but you kept looking at me. The intensity of your eyes made me feel a little weak.

My friends say it's because I got prettier and you got handsomer and we were treading on ice, but I reason it also had something to do with the forbiddenness of the whole thing as well since even as friends, our parents had reprimanded us. Weasley's and Malfoy's shouldn't be friends, but we were and we had made it work until suddenly it wasn't working.

And I spent my days studying for exams, playing less worthy chess opponents, and wondering when we might actually speak to each other again. I stole glances at you and you always seemed to be looking at me. But I didn't act-it wasn't my style-and I worried instead about upcoming exams because with the future I had ahead of me, I needed those perfect marks.

So I saw you between and during study periods as our roles reversed: I withdrew and you stepped into the spotlight. And OWLs came at us like a train. We both made the leap and took the exams, and I knew I did well and that you would have also done exceptionally because you were Scorpius Malfoy, and how could I accept less?

But after OWLs, came the questions. Where do you want to go? What careers have you thought about? What NEWT courses are you going to take? How are you going to keep your marks up? It was frustrating enough for me-I nearly tore my hair out-so I can't imagine what you got as the son of a former Death Eater.

* * *

In sixth year, I didn't know what I wanted to do with my life. I only knew that I really wanted to talk to you and bring back what we had before fifth year. As it turned out, NEWT level Potions wasn't a popular class and we ended up partnered up. When faced with each other, we worked well, but there was no conversation.

Many things caused the quiet, solemn treatment. We had been tentative friends while young, but we hardly spoke the year prior. Also, you were devilishly handsome and distracting and I was still part of the 'girls who like Scorpius' club. Yet, as many times as I was caught staring at you, I caught you gawking at me more.

It lasted until Christmas. We separated to our families and then because you and Al were still best friends, you came around at New Year's. As the countdown began, the next generation grouped together. Albus and Cleo, my friend, were together. Louis had his girlfriend, James and Fred theirs, and Dom, Roxie and Molly were just celebrating together. That left you and me.

When Uncle Fred's fireworks went off, there was an ache inside me. I wanted so badly to kiss you-feel you-and yet I didn't. We were reaching a tentative friendship again, and I refused to ruin it. However, the look you gave me with your silver eyes reflecting the majestic colours in the sky, nearly made me crack. I did manage to give you a real, unbridled smile and I received one in return.

New Years Day we played chess and I won the first game. My smile hardly wavered for the rest of the holidays.

* * *

In May the questions came again. It was a year later and I still had no idea what I wanted from my life. I was Rose Weasley. I was supposed to be a genius witch-I am-who follows in the footsteps of her mother into a high-ranking ministry job or at the very least, goes into the Auror department or becomes a Healer. But I was Rose Weasley and I liked Astronomy, Muggles, History, and fantasy worlds.

I spent my afternoons hiding away in the Astronomy Tower. The library had become too predictable for my intruding family. Plus, the view was much better from the highest point in the castle. I didn't fly much-no Quidditch for me-but I liked heights so I often found myself sitting next to or even on the windowsills in the tower.

I was dangling a leg out the window the night when you stumbled across me the first time. I scared you and I don't think I've ever heard your voice shake like that. I made sure to climb back in the tower and make sure you were all right. But that night, as the starlight bathed our faces and your eyes were liquid moonlight, I lost myself.

I wasn't the only one as your nose bumped mine and your warm breath flitted across my cheeks, tickling my freckles, and then we were pressed together and it was long overdue. I rocked forwards and pressed myself more firmly to you and you held me like I was your anchor to the planet and I'd never had a better snog.

After the first kiss, we could barely contain the buzz. You kissed each of the freckles across my cheek and I caressed every imperfection on your slender hands. We held each other in the tower, chilled by the wind, lit by starlight, and fueled by desire, and talked.

We talked about family and the weight of names and the struggles of power and fear and admiration. We talked about dreams and destinies and family legacies and pressure. We talked about school and what we'd like to do and how we'd like to do it and how even if it made no sense, it would make us happy and we'd be together.

Because even though we had a rocky start, I was Rose Weasley and you were Scorpius Malfoy and we understood each other more than anyone else. More than Al, more than Cleo, more than our parents or teachers or peers. Because there was a difference between a dream and a duty.

* * *

People didn't get it. No matter whose side they took, nobody liked us together. Albus said we were too similar. Cleo said we didn't know each other well enough. Gryffindor House said you were a Slytherin and Slytherin House said I was a Gryffindor. The boys said I was too pretty for you. The girls said you were too handsome for me. We didn't breathe a word to our families because even though they swore their prejudices were gone, there was no way to be sure.

The whispers followed us and the eyes drew images that cut right through us that everyone could see but us. There was usually silence when we were together, but if looks could kill than I know I'd have been dead ten times over because I was Rose Weasley and you were Scorpius Malfoy and we weren't supposed to be in love.

So we kept running from our problems to the Astronomy Tower where we could have silence, be together and just pretend that we could happily live our whole lives staring out a window at the endless abyss of space above us. We talked of constellations and moons and asteroids and Muggle satellites, but we were together so it didn't matter to us.

We spent two months hiding from the world only to be torn apart as we headed home. Our friends and family walked on glass around us at the train station, waiting for us to address the issue in question to our parents, but we bid farewell like friends and pretended nothing had happened.

It probably would have worked if my brother hadn't been a blabbermouth. My mom had asked how my last few months of school had gone and if I'd found any career options I'd liked. Hugo blurted out that hardly anyone saw me since I was always hiding in the Astronomy Tower with you.

That was the end of the secret because my parents were much too curious for their own good. They found out through James and Molly and Lou and Al and Cleo and Dom and Fred that I, Rose Weasley, was dating you, Scorpius Malfoy. My dad wasn't pleased, but he was simply unhappy because his little girl had a boyfriend in the first place. Mum didn't mind as much, as long as I promised to be safe.

You still never told me how your family took it, but by the way you buried yourself in me and left your father like he was poison in September, I'd wager he didn't take it too well.

My parents were more disappointed that I still didn't know what to do with my life. I didn't want to work for the Ministry, I didn't want to be a Healer, I didn't want to be an Auror, and I just didn't know. The rest of the summer had me up to my eyes in job pamphlets and offerings of internships from my parents and distractions to keep me away from you.

* * *

Seventh year came much too fast. Fortunately it did come with the appointment of Head Girl and Boy. Since we were both prefects for the two preceding years, it made perfect sense to pair us together especially with the chemistry and effectiveness we worked with. For us, it was a win-win situation.

However, some people saw it as favouritism in my case and pity in yours. They also said that you wouldn't be there without me, which was ridiculous because really you were the one holding me together. The whispers continued and they only got worse. People got louder and more confident with their doubts and several times, the words were enough to make us tense up and freeze.

We still escaped to the tower, desperate to avoid responsibility for some period of time. Our graduation and NEWT exams were lurking just around the corner and neither of us had a plan for the future. Mostly, we just wanted to be together and away from the judging attitude that was carried by our Hogwarts peer group.

Finally, after two years of avoiding, we each managed to find something with enough interest and substance for us. You chose Healing and I chose Curse Breaking. We were dismayed to find out that your job would keep you locked down in one place while mine would have me circling the globe, but we were determined to make it work.

In our last days at Hogwarts we shirked out Head duties to spend our last nights in the tower, tracing each other, learning each other, and feeling together and feeling loved.

We graduated top of the class, just as we'd begun, and our families were finally getting used to the idea of us being together. That night after we donned the caps and received our freedom, you told me you loved me under the stars and I cried and you held me because I loved you back and I had for years and I was just waiting for you to say it first.

* * *

We got an apartment together in Diagon Alley, near St. Mungo's for you, and we were happy. Our friends said we were moving too fast, but we were in love and we were deaf to their advice. I started my training in London and you started yours too. We came home exhausted and barely had time to smile at each other, much less press tender kisses to lips and shoulders and cheeks.

When we left Hogwarts we thought the rumors and whispers would end, but apparently young witches and wizards know how to gossip with dignity, because I don't think I'd ever been assaulted by that many reporters demanding to know why I was dating a scum Malfoy and why we lived together. The prejudice hadn't ended at the castle. That had only been a taste and the reality of our world was oppressing and dark.

We were tired.

* * *

One year after leaving Hogwarts, my Curse Breaking days were finally kick-starting and I was off to Egypt for two months and you were stuck back in London. The farewell was sweet and touching and my heart melted for you. We promised to owl each other and I remember the firm, promising pressure of my lips against yours.

The first two weeks were packed with letters between us filled with random notes and full day recaps and pleasantries. The other Curse Breakers I was with told me it wouldn't last. No Curse Breaker had ever managed a long distance relationship well. They said work always got in the way. I insisted that you and I were different and that we'd still love each other by the time I came back from the crusade.

Through the next month and a half, the letters lessened and the detail and affection waned, but the contact was still there. I returned to you, tired and brimming with stories that fell upon deaf ears because you were busy with your work and we suddenly had less time for each other and fewer words to be said.

I was only back two weeks before I received another assignment in rural China and this one was a full seven months. Our goodbye was a lot less heartfelt and it felt more like someone was standing on my chest as I kissed you goodbye because I just couldn't get the air to my lungs and the pitied looks from my coworkers stung me to the core as you melted away with the warp of the Port Key.

I wrote to you from China, but finding the time to do so was difficult and your own work schedule at St. Mungo's was jam-packed. By the end of three months, I'd conversed more with Cleo and Al than I had with you. The history I uncovered and the challenges I faced were exhilarating and I often found myself so buzzed at the end of the day that my dreams were of breaking curses instead of being cuddled against your side.

After seven long months of separation, I returned home. I wanted to say that everything would return back to normal, but our apartment felt too small and cramped compared to the open sites I lived on for over half a year. And sharing a bed was strange-we never knew where to put our arms or legs and someone was always uncomfortable. To not understand each other was weird for us. Since our beginning we'd been so in sync that now everything we did around each was done on eggshells.

When I received a two-month deployment in the Caribbean, I saw anger in your eyes and there was no touching goodbye this time-simply a meaningless peck and an emotionless exchange of words. Harper and Davis simply patted my back and promised me that it's a tough and rewarding world.

* * *

On that trip, there was a curse that none of us could break that ended up cursing both Davis and I, earning us a quick trip back to England and admittance into St. Mungo's. In some twist of fate, you were assigned as our Healer and after the counter curses were administered and our symptoms checked, we were released. Davis left immediately, but I stayed for you.

You didn't seem that happy to see me and I grilled you. I was accused of being away too long. You were accused of never writing. I was told that I cared more for my new friends and my job than I did for you and our past days. You were informed that you changed our apartment so that it was more yours than mine like you were trying to erase me.

We stretched and strained and reached the point of tension, but by then it was too late. We decided to take a brief break and I found a respectable flat I could stay in for a while we thought about each other and if it was worth it. We figured we'd keep the whole thing quiet from friends, family, and the press.

However, as the child of two war heroes was dating the son of a war villain, everything that I did alone made some tabloid with an article criticizing our relationship. It turns out that when I looked at apartments, the press had a field day and instantly jumped on our break and established it a break-up.

We tried so many times to rekindle the flames, but there was always an angry whisper or a 'what if' thought in the back of our minds and we could never justify it. St. Mungo's required you to always be around and Curse Breaking had me off in remote corners of the world for most of the year so you were the one who dealt with most of the suspicion, and for that I felt sorry.

After another year of on-again and off-again testing, I was ready to try us again, but you'd had enough. I'd been leaving you alone too much with your thoughts and the thoughts of the whole Wizarding World. And so, even though I loved you and your eyes said you loved me, we ended it and I fully moved into the apartment on the other side of Wizarding London.

* * *

To this day I still stand by the fact that we could have been great, but we loved a love that killed itself because of fame and power and other words. And I loved you like a person loves breathing-unnoticed until there's no air left and you're gasping for life- but it still wasn't enough. We had our choices and we started out golden, but now miles can't measure how far we've fallen.

Maybe I was gone too long, maybe you worked too hard, maybe the world was too harsh on us, or maybe we just didn't try hard enough. Whatever it was, we were done, but I still loved you.

* * *

When I woke up in cold sweats dreaming of you, I knew I was alone and the resentment washed over me. I loved you, more than I've ever loved anyone. The beautiful thing we had was ruined by me and nothing in my life shared the same colour it used to. Curse Breaking wasn't even the same.

I got suspended twice for breaking protocol because I was distracted thinking about you, but it still wasn't enough to convince me to call you because I was a stubborn witch and I wanted you to want me first.

A year later and I knew that you weren't going to come to me first, but I still couldn't go to you. We were toxic to each other and though I was unhappy without you, I was unhappier with you, so it was a lose-lose situation.

But without loving you, I didn't really have meaning. There were other Curse Breakers and there were a dozen other Weasley's. I started wondering if anyone would even miss me. Alcohol was first and cigarettes followed not long after. I was coping, poorly, but I had to try.

Three months after I started smoking and I was starting to hate myself. I ruined you. You were Scorpius Malfoy, golden boy, but I broke you and turned you off of love and broke my own heart because I still loved you, no matter how poisonous it was. I was never going to be happy and I'd started to wonder the point of even living.

My hole got deeper and deeper and darker and darker. I cancelled an India trip I'd been looking forward to for a while and drank myself to unconsciousness. I cried about you so much until the point where I just became a black void that knew only one thing: I loved you too much.

* * *

We met again in St. Mungo's. We didn't talk. You ran your tests and gave me the all clear, but you couldn't look me in the eyes because I think you blamed yourself for this. I was the picture perfect patient, swearing off alcohol and cigarettes for life and promising that I'd never been seen in St. Mungo's again.

As I was leaving I finally caught your gaze and the liquid silver I fell in love with was just as empty and pained as mine and my chest tightened painfully because I still loved you and any doubts I had about you had just evaporated because you obviously still love me, but it was too late.

We had fallen too fast, too hard and we shattered like glass. And try as we might to pick up the pieces, the cracks would never heal and it would only take the lightest pressure to ruin everything again. And with the toxicity that came with being Rose Weasley and Scorpius Malfoy, we had ruined each other's lives enough.

So the white doors swung shut behind me, my chest tightened, and I lost my last source of air in the world that I could barely care about. The stars dimmed in their places and I looked to them in vain every night in your absence.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** So angst is a thing that's happening with me lately. I started this yesterday and finished it at 2 AM this morning, so it needed a good edit. The ending felt a little forced, but for me, there's no other way to really end it. More stories should be coming soon, from various fandoms, and hopefully I'll get that last push I need to finish my PJO Big Bang piece.

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-Nicole


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